Into the Sunset
by LianneZ4
Summary: Two years after Sara left for London, she and Neal are reunited once again. As they try to figure out their relationship, they have to overcome obstacles both external and internal. Set post-Season 5.
1. Prologue

**INTO THE SUNSET**

**Summary: Two years after Sara left for London, she and Neal are reunited once again. As they try to figure out their relationship, they have to overcome obstacles both external and internal. Set post-Season 5.**

_A/N: This story is completed; it will be posted over the next few days. It has been written for the White Collar reverse big bang and beta-read by Love_82 and miri thompson. If you want to see the awesome art made by kanarek13, visit my livejournal (nickname "sheenianni")._

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

The end of February, a small town in the middle of nowhere, enveloped in darkness and silence. It was snowing.

Staring at the phone booth in the middle of a nearby square, Neal hid his hands in the pockets of an ugly sweat shirt; a futile attempt to keep them somewhat warm. The street alley behind him was empty, the light of the lamps giving it a soothing, comforting feeling. The soft lights, the snowdrops, the quiet street with lovely houses, even a cat sitting on a fence pole – so idyllic, so innocent that the artist in Neal could easily imagine painting this as a Christmas card for a friend. But appearances could be deceiving and right now, even thinking of art made Neal more nauseous than a three days old devilled ham sandwich.

Moving from the treacherous light into the shadow, Neal pressed his back against the wall of a random house, trying to stay inconspicuous and buy himself a few moments in case someone came here looking for him. He silently cursed himself for not keeping a better track of time. He should have known that it would be night when he had broken out. Against common misconceptions, daylight would have actually provided him with better cover than the night – the streets would have been full, and when there were people, there was a lower risk of being snatched away and brought right back to his private hell. However, staying underground for so long must have messed with his inner clock. Either way, it didn't matter at this point – he'd have to work with the hand that he had been dealt. Yet despite the urgency of the situation, Neal couldn't help but take a moment, staring at his surroundings with a weird mixture of anxiety and awe.

Three months. Three long, strange, incredibly bizarre months since he had been abducted – and now he was free again. The part of Neal that wasn't freaking out right now was shaking his head in disapproval, dismayed that it took him that long to escape. Moz would say that he was losing his edge.

The phone booth stood there in the middle of the square, silently taunting him. Biting his lip, Neal knew he had to make a choice. Mozzie, Peter, Mozzie or Peter. Only two numbers, yet so many possible endings.

He could snatch after his freedom and become a fugitive. Or, he could place his faith in Peter for one more time and try to get his life back. There had been times when that choice would have been easy. Now…

Making a decision and taking a deep breath, Neal leaned away from the phone booth and started walking to the middle of the square.

* * *

_A/N: Reviews are very welcome!_


	2. Part I

**PART I**

**Fourteen months later**

Having just finished reading through a report from one of her subordinates, Sara confirmed the electronic version of the document and added her signature on the paper version before placing the file on a growing pile on the right side of her desk. Glancing at the pile on the left side, she was happy to see that there were only four folders left. Unless something unexpected came up, she should be able to leave at – she glanced at the clock – wow, quarter to nine? Sara blinked. Apparently, time had gotten away from her again.

_Then again, there wasn't a reason why that should bother her, was there? It wasn't like she had anything special to go to anyway._

Sara chased that thought away. She liked her job and she was damn good at it – there was a reason why the London office was so highly viewed by the Sterling-Bosch management. Being the youngest office head of all the Sterling-Bosch branches and a female, she had fought hard to win the respect of some people at the company. Now, after two years of acting as a VP, nobody questioned her appointment anymore. Looking those skeptics in the eye after proving them wrong was almost as satisfying as using her baton on one of her fleeing suspects.

_Almost._

Glancing at the clock again, Sara made a sudden decision. She locked the remaining folders in her desk, pushed herself away from the table and went to grab her coat and handbag. She put the coat on, picked up the completed files to drop them off with a clerk and glanced over her office again before turning off the lights and locking the door.

As she was waiting for the elevator, Sara considered how her life had changed since her promotion. With some nostalgia, she thought back to the days when she was simply an insurance investigator, tracking down one valuable item after another. Nowadays, even though she took on an occasional case, most of her duties were much more desk-bound. When she was honest with herself, Sara had to admit that she missed the time spent in the field. Not that her position didn't keep her busy. Just last week, Mr. Bosch had mentioned that she hadn't taken a vacation since coming to London.

Stepping outside, Sara hailed a cab. The cabbie turned out to be extremely talkative, regaling her with gossip and tales about his family. Suddenly overcome by a wave of tiredness that came seemingly out of nowhere, Sara rested her head against the back of her seat. Closing her eyes, she gave the driver an occasional nod or a one-word answer. Soon enough, she knew about her driver's niece's engagement, his son's college plans and his mother in law health problems. Before they reached Sara's apartment, the monologue that started out as mildly entertaining became rather irritating, though Sara couldn't quite decide why. She felt relieved when she finally saw the familiar street.

She paid for the cab and then walked up the stairs to her flat, feeling strangely disconnected. She stepped inside, took off her high heels, got changed, grabbed a sandwich and relaxed into an armchair with a glass of wine.

And then she looked around, staring at the luxurious but sterile place (_not true – minimalist!_), and for yet another time that month discovered that some part of her felt just as empty as her expensive and modern flat. Lately, she'd been working twelve hours a day only to come home each night to nurse a glass of wine and read a book or watch a movie. Was that really what her life had turned into?

Sara frowned. She was happy with whom she was; she didn't want to change her career or become less driven. These current thoughts just weren't like her.

Maybe it _was_ time for a break.

Sara mulled the idea over in her head. She considered her position at Sterling&Bosch and came to the conclusion that they could do for a few days without her – she had trained her deputy well and trusted her to handle things in her absence. Apart from that, she didn't have any other obligations tying her here. Supposed that she decided to take a vacation, what was she going to do with it?

First, she'd shop for new heels without being interrupted by "urgent" phone calls and then treat herself to a day in a spa. After that though, the possibilities were endless.

On one of her better vacations about eight years ago, she had gone hiking and climbing mountains in the Yellowstone National Park. On the other hand, the more recent scuba diving experience left her rather unimpressed and she was _not_ going to go into the disaster that had been that prolonged weekend with Bryant. The vacation on Mallorca in 2008 had been great for about three days before she found herself bored out of her mind. In 2005 she had been forced to cancel her planned trip to Italy as her vacation interceded with Caffrey's trial. Japan, Brazil and Island had been interesting, but Sara didn't feel like repeating any of those trips. There was a whole world to see and many new things to try. It was mid-April now and it would be two weeks at the very least before she would be able to leave. With that in mind, Sara began considering the possibilities.

Then her phone rang. Wondering who it might be, Sara glanced at the screen. When she read the familiar name, she paused momentarily before smiling and picking up. "Hi Neal. I didn't expect you to call so soon again."

"_Hey Sara. I hope this isn't a bad moment?" _

"No, not at all. So, to what do I owe this particular pleasure? What's going on with you?" For one abrupt second, Sara wondered whether something was wrong. Then she pushed that thought away.

"_You mean you don't know?" _

"No, I don't think… Wait. Are you saying that…?"

"_Four years are up,"_ finished Neal with an audible grin.

"Neal, that's great!" Sara laughed. "Wow. That's – that's really amazing. Congratulations Caffrey!"

She tried not to think of the fact that she had once had that particular date marked in her calendar. Since then however, Neal's release had been moved up twice and she had lost track of the exact day.

"So what are you going to do now? Any plans?"

"_I thought I'd do some travelling first. Then we'll see." _

Evasion or did Neal honestly not know yet? "Well if you decide to visit the UK, you should stop by, catch up… I can show you around London."

"_Actually I'm staying in a hotel near the Regent's Park right now, so... Does the offer still stand?"_

A pause.

"_Sara?" _

"Oh."

Neal hesitated. _"Look, if it's inconvenient–"_

"No, no it just… surprised me. Umm, let me check my diary." What was Neal doing in London? "Okay, so tomorrow is all full, but how about a dinner? 8 p.m. after I end up at work. We could go to a restaurant, grab a meal – I know this great place about ten minutes from the National Gallery. Unless you have some other plans…?"

She could hear Neal's smile. _"No, nothing in particular. Dinner sounds fun."_

"Perfect. Then it's a date."

"_Should I bring flowers then?"_

Sara laughed. "Just leave the lock picks at home and don't rob the gallery."

"_Sara, you wound me, you really do. … So where exactly shall we meet?"_

They arranged for the details.

"That's settled then. And Neal? I have a million questions."

"_I wouldn't expect anything less."_ Neal paused. _"It's great to hear you again, Sara."_

"You too."

Sara hung up, but she couldn't stop the internal turmoil. What was Neal doing in London? Did this mean anything? Did she _want_ it to mean something?

Two years ago, things between them had become complicated with Neal's fake proposal. For a few short moments on that observatory, Sara had almost imagined that it had been real – and wondered. But she was smart enough to recognize it for another of Neal's dream castles, beautiful and exciting but built of sand, and while Neal might have fallen for his own con, she still lived with her feet on the ground. Besides, her promotion was just too good to let it pass._ 'To a different time and different us,'_ Sara had finally said – and she had known that it was the right thing to do.

Her decision had been tested shortly afterwards, when a mere half an hour before her plane had been due to leave, Sara had heard about Peter's arrest. She had called Neal, asking if the news were true and what had really happened. Neal, though obviously shaken, had reassured her that things were being handled and told her to get on her plane. She had emailed him a week later, he had responded that they were following leads and that she needn't worry. After five weeks of silence, Neal had called to tell her that Peter had finally been released. With that, all communication between them had ceased.

Even after Neal's kidnapping and his return, they had only spoken a few times on the phone. Now he was here, asking to meet her.

And you know what – that was exactly what she was going to do. They would have dinner, talk and have fun. Her mind made, Sara got up from her armchair, and poured herself another glass of wine and then picked a book she had left on her nightstand, looking forward to enjoy another quiet night.

And quietly wondered what tomorrow would bring.

o - o - o

"This is surprisingly good."

"I told you," replied Sara smugly.

Swallowing another bite from his pie, Neal hummed in appreciation. Sara grinned.

Truthfully, she didn't blame him for the slightly dubious look he had given her when they first arrived. The Silver Kelpie tavern looked shabby at best and not in a "good old cozy pub" way. It obviously needed repairs and renovations and Sara would have just passed by without a glance, had a source not once decided to meet her here about a Monet. She had only tried out their Sheppard's pie because she had been in meetings the whole morning and hadn't had time for lunch.

She hadn't had any expectations about the quality of the services. However, the food had turned out to be so delicious that Sara taken to visiting the Silver Kelpie each time she was in the vicinity.

"No, you were absolutely right. Still, this isn't exactly the place I would have imagined you in." Neal gave her a light smile to take away the edge of his words.

"Well, they don't do delivery, so it's either putting up with the surroundings or a pizza night."

"A pizza night, really? Here in London? … There _has_ to be a less painful option."

Sara laughed. "Well, I didn't have your cooking genius around there, so… Anyway, enough about the food, Caffrey. What's really going on with you?"

"Mmm, distraction with a pie followed by an interrogation. I love the way you think!" Neal's eyes glittered with mischief. "Did you bring whips and needles?"

"No need. I still have my baton and I'm not afraid to use it."

They stared at each other in a frosty glare before they both burst out in incontrollable laugher.

Sara wiped away a tear. "Oh Neal, I missed this."

He reached for her hand over the table and gently squeezed it. "I missed you too."

An unexpected shiver crept up Sara's spine. She stilled, her smile slipping while she tried to handle the conflicting emotions that the simple gesture had brought up in her.

"Neal…" What were they doing here?

Thanks to a lifetime practice of reading people, Neal immediately sensed the change in the mood. "Yes? What is it?"

She hesitated, then smiled shook her head. "Nothing. I'm just… I'm happy to be here like this." She raised her glass of cider. "To Neal Caffrey, a free citizen. To new beginnings."

Neal clinked his glass with her. "To freedom."

They took a few more bites of their food before Sara picked up their talk again. "So how long do you plan on staying in London?"

"A couple weeks, maybe three," replied Neal with a shrug. "Then I want to go to Paris, Venice, maybe Athens… travel a bit, see the world again."

"Sounds fun." Sara smirked. "You sure you won't be bored without all the agencies trying to catch you?"

Neal snorted. "No, I… actually, it's a relief. After the last couple years… let's just say I've had enough of the chase for a while." For a moment, he looked almost grim, and Sara knew that there was a story there somewhere. Then Neal shook his head and the spark in his eyes came back. "What about you? I bet you've been busy. Any interesting cases that you can tell me about?"

They parted their ways an hour later after agreeing to meet for lunch the day after tomorrow.

o - o - o

"… then Diana handcuffed him to the post and the whole time she kept on arguing with Mozzie about Theo's cough medicine while the rest of us were trying to break through the door," concluded Neal as they stopped by the shore of Themes and stared at the lights of Tower Bridge. Leaning over the railing and staring at the river, Sara didn't even bother trying to hide her smile.

It had been over a week since Neal came to London. This time, they had been to an exhibition at the Tate Modern, followed by another dinner in a nearby restaurant. They had left just a few minutes before ten and despite it being Wednesday, neither of them felt like going home just yet. There had been a storm and the rain had just started to die down when they stepped outside, so Neal had opened his umbrella and let Sara step closer to him. Instead of hailing a cab, they took a stroll over the streets of London, joking and teasing and acting silly like a pair of teenagers. They jumped over the splashes and played hide and seek, and Sara felt a ridiculous impulse to take off her shoes and ran around barefoot.

Now, she was she leaning over the railing and staring at the river, her clothes were all wet and a bit dirty – and Sara couldn't remember the last time she had felt so unburdened and carefree.

She looked around, noticing how the lights of the bridge reflected in the river below them, breathed the fresh air and watched the boats down in the St. Katherine's docks.

"You know, this city really can be quite beautiful."

Staring straight ahead, Sara's lips formed a soft smile. "I've actually never been here at night before."

"Not even once?"

"No, there just – wasn't the right moment, I guess. It's not like the job takes you here to play tourist." She turned her head to look at Neal. "What about you, Caffrey? I bet you already know all the romantic places in London."

"No, just a few of them… Though the London Eye is stunning – have you been there yet?"

Sara shook her head no.

"Then you should definitely go. Pick a day with good weather, then wait for sunset time and pay for the fast track ticket so you avoid the line. … Maybe we could go on our next date?"

"Neal, you do realize that sitting in a giant turning wheel five hundred feet above ground isn't exactly my idea of a wonderful time…?"

"'Course I know, but this isn't like the Empire State Building," said Neal earnestly. "Trust me, you'd love it."

"Alright, I'll think about it. Either way, it will have to wait." Sara paused. "There's a meeting tomorrow and I always stay late Friday evenings to make sure everything's dealt with before the weekend… My Saturday should be free, though."

Neal smiled. "Sounds perfect."

Sara smiled back at him. "Yeah."

This felt weird, planning all their dates around her calendar. In New York at least, they'd had both of their schedules to consider, making the whole process more natural. Not that Sara enjoyed the FBI interfering with her love life, but at least it didn't make her look like a workaholic. Speaking of jobs…

"So what are your plans after you finish your cruise around the world? Still thinking about staying with the FBI?"

"I'm considering my options."

"You know you can do whatever you want now," said Sara lightly. "Neal, you have a set of skills that a number of legitimate organizations would jump at. Corporate security, or being an art authenticator – hell, you could probably run your own business if you wanted."

"I know. And like I said, I'm considering my options," replied Neal in a tone that suggested that unless she pushed, he wasn't about to elaborate.

How did their talk turn so serious in such a short time?

Sara sighed. "Just… please don't screw it up, Caffrey."

Neal shook his head, "I swear, Sara, I'm not about to. Not this time."

She searched his face before giving him a slow nod.

For a while, they just stood there, watching the city together. Then Neal's arms enveloped around her and he pulled her in a hug. Leaning back against Neal's chest, Sara clasped his hands in one of hers and just enjoyed the moment. Feeling Neal's breath on her skin, a shiver ran through her body as she realized that despite her jacket she was getting cold.

"You're getting cold," Neal echoed her thoughts, helping her snuggle closer.

"Well, it was you who suggested going sightseeing in a rain," said Sara teasingly.

"Do you want to go back?" murmured Neal into her hair.

Tilting her head, Sara pressed a light kiss against his chin. "No, not yet. I like it here."

Even though she didn't see his face, she could still feel Neal's smile.

They continued staring at the river together. However, now that Neal had mentioned it aloud, Sara felt the chill creeping up from her bare legs. The dress she wore was very stylish and elegant, but it wasn't exactly made for a cold April night after a heavy rain.

She freed herself from Neal's arms. "You know what, it _is_ getting cold here. … And don't even think about it."

"What?"

"You were about to offer me your coat – don't. There's no point in both of us getting a cold."

"Fine." Neal lifted his hands in self-defense. "Okay, I don't suppose you want to walk around to keep warm and so more sightseeing?"

"You guessed right. I think it's time I got home."

Neal smiled. "In that case, let's go and get you a cab."

They both stepped away from the railing. Then something passed between them and they spontaneously joined their lips in a kiss.

It was so familiar, the softness of Neal's hair in her hand, the way he held her, forcing her to lean slightly backwards. It was funny and sweet and powerful until Sara had to end the kiss to catch her breath.

Neal stared at her with something like awe and wonder. "Wow."

"Wow. That was… "

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Sara started to laugh and Neal joined her just a second later. When they stepped apart, the spell was already broken.

"You know, I really had a great time today," said Sara at last.

Neal gently squeezed her hand. "Let's get you that cab."

o - o - o

When Sara woke up on the next Sunday, she had been slightly surprised to find Neal still asleep. In New York, he was usually the first one up. For a moment, she wondered whether he was still coping with the time difference – but with Neal Caffrey, that was an unlikely scenario. Shaking her head, she decided to take advantage of it and go over some paperwork before Neal woke up.

With one more glance at Neal, Sara hesitated. Instead of sleeping peacefully, there was some sort of tension around him, a tiredness that he probably masked while he was awake. Were there new lines in his face or was she just imagining things?

As her rational side kicked in, Sara reminded herself that she hadn't slept in a bed with Neal for two years. Quietly sneaking from under the covers, she tiptoed to the kitchen to make coffee and toasts for breakfast – Neal would have probably made something more fancy, but Sara had never claimed to be an enthusiastic cook and it wasn't like she had the ingredients anyway – and then she settled behind the desk in her study, sipping at her coffee and beginning to draft the proposal for Tuesday's meeting with a potential new client.

It was quarter past nine when Neal finally entered the study, trying to button up his shirt with one hand while holding the coffee in the other. His hair looked adorably disheveled and he was still yawning, but his usual smile was once again back in place. "Hey."

Dropping her pen, Sara turned around in her chair. "Well, look who's finally woken up!"

"What can I say? It's Sunday. Some of us actually like to rest during the weekend," replied Neal cheekily.

Sara shook her head. "You mean the hardworking people who are playing tourists while visiting their friends abroad?"

"Friends as in _amis-amant_?" said Neal with a mischievous grin.

"Neal, if this is going to end the way I think it will, I _really_ like my carpet, so finish that coffee first please?"

His eyes twinkling, Neal walked out of the study with his typical swagger, presumably going back to the kitchen to finish his coffee and have his toast.

Torn between irritation and amusement, Sara finally gave in to a resigned chuckle and put away her paperwork.

Was she really going to go down that road again? This thing between her and Neal had always made her life complicated. Besides, he was about to leave in a week and she had no idea when and if he'd be back.

_Amis-amant_, repeated Sara silently, "friends who have fun". Only she was still in love with Neal and this thing could crash and burn at any moment.

_Did it have to, though?_

Pushing that thought away, she went to the kitchen to check on Neal. She was surprised to see him looking at some leaflets she had left on the counter a few days earlier.

"You thinking of taking a vacation?" he asked curiously.

"Maybe," answered Sara vaguely. Stepping next to Neal, she picked up a few of the leaflets before putting them back with a sigh. "My boss Mr. Bosch has pointed it out to me that I haven't had one in over two years. I've tried to narrow down the possibilities, but…"

"Mmmm." Neal put his arm around her hip, stepping so close that she felt his breath in her hair. "So what are you considering?"

Sara turned to face him with a speculative look. "Well, when you grab me like this, nothing to do with vacation…"

"Oh really?" murmured Neal as he lifted her up on the kitchen counter and squeezed her breasts through her shirt. "Then what are you thinking about, Miss Ellis?"

Sara laughed. "Caffrey –"

He pressed his lips against her collarbone. "You're so beautiful."

Placing her legs around Neal and pulling him closer, Sara ripped open Neal's shirt.

Neal lifted her once again to adjust their position before reaching for her shirt and pulling it over her head. They kissed, their tongues playing a teasing dance before their mouths pressed closer in passion. As she dug her nails into Neal's shoulders, Sara shivered when Neal started stroking her back. The familiar light touch and the way he always paused above the exact spot where she was ticklish was enough to drew her mad.

Then just before she snapped, Neal suddenly lowered one of his hands, caressing Sara's bare thigh before moving up towards her panties. She moaned and started unzipping his trousers while Neal sucked on the tender skin of her breasts and neck.

"Come to Paris with me."

At first, Sara wasn't sure she heard correctly. She laughed. "What do you mean?"

Neal slowed down his movements and met her eyes. "For your vacation. Come to Paris with me."

Sara frowned. "What? Neal, that's not–"

"I know. You didn't plan it, it's all sudden and we don't know what's going on between us – I don't care. Just think of it, please?"

Sara shook her head. "Caffrey, I'm not going to just drop everything and to Paris go with you. It's insane – why would you even suggest that?"

"Because I missed you? Because I want to go there with you?" Neal hesitated. "Please, Sara. You don't have to say anything now, just… think about it?"

Still taken aback by the completely unexpected suggestion, Sara reluctantly nodded. "All right, I'll think about it." She paused and tried to collect herself. Then she purposefully pushed the offer to the corner of her mind.

With Neal watching her and waiting for her response, Sara pulled him closer for another hungry kiss before reaching for his pants again. "Hmmm. Now, I think we were somewhere… here…"

o - o - o

Nine days later, Sara was waiting in the passport check line at the Heathrow airport, talking on the phone with her deputy to go over some last minute details while giving a silent smile to Neal beside her.

In a mix of happiness, nervousness and excitement, Sara thought that this might just be the best vacation she had had in years – either that or she had lost her mind by accepting Caffrey's offer. In a surge of dry humor, she acknowledged that the possibilities weren't mutually exclusive.

Feeling the familiar thrill of walking a new road, Sara ended her phone call and then readied her passport for the check-up.

The flight to Paris was due to leave in ninety minutes.


	3. Part II

**PART II **

Against Neal's well-hidden fears, their flight to Paris went off without a hitch.

From the moment they stepped into the terminal at Heathrow, Neal had been on edge; nervous and jittery, practically certain that something was about to go wrong. The night before, he had seriously contemplated using a fake ID, despite all his previous resolutions and the promise he made to Sara. In the end though, his rational mind had won over his demons and he decided that the risks of being caught far outweighed any imaginary benefits. Besides, Sara was with him, and she would have questions that he couldn't answer. He was already withholding enough from her as it was.

When they got through security at the Charles de Gaulle Airport and blended in with the crowds, Neal released a breath he hadn't known he was holding and smiled.

Paris, the city of art and romance, was waiting for them.

o - o - o

Their hotel was a little place about ten minutes from the edge of Montmartre; a small building with seven apartments and a restaurant that belonged to a friend of a friend who had once owed Mozzie a favor. In repayment, Neal had allegedly spent two weeks there in 2004, posing to the outside world as a wannabe artist who came to Paris filled with dreams and was now completely out of his depth. That particular alias had seemed naïve even to Neal's romantic nature, but it had served its purpose and kept him hidden after a con that went sideways.

When he had first called to ask if they had a room, he had been surprised that Quentin, the owner of the hotel, still remembered him from ten years ago. When Neal had called him again last week to ask if he could change his reservations and add one more person, Quentin had assured him that it wouldn't be a problem.

And so now there he was, sitting on a bed with his suitcase in the middle of their room, while Sara was staring at him from the opposite bed with a matching expression of exhaustion and incredulousness.

"Well… welcome to Paris," said Neal at last.

The words broke the silence between them. Sara smirked. "Welcome to Paris, Caffrey." She shook off her high heels and awkwardly glanced around. "So…"

"So."

Sara paused. "Okay, for the record? This feels kind of weird."

"What exactly do you mean?" asked Neal.

"Oh come on, Neal… _This._" Sara opened her arms with a shrug to display the weirdness of the situation. "I mean this hotel?"

"It's cozy," replied Neal with a winning smile. _Was Sara having doubts about coming here with him?_

"And why do we have separate beds? Well, I mean…"

"Ah." Suddenly, Neal chuckled. "Okay, that's… a misunderstanding and probably my fault."

Sara lifted her eyebrows in question.

"I know the manager," Neal began to explain. "The last time I was here, it was with Moz. So when I called him if we could have a room for two –"

"– he probably assumed I'd be a short bald man with glasses. So… I should _probably_ be happy that there wasn't a double bed waiting for us." They stared at each other for a moment before bursting in laugher.

"Okay, seriously," said Neal once they calmed down, "do you hate this place?"

"No." Sara paused while glancing around. "No, I actually kind of like it. It's just not the place I thought you'd pick."

It wasn't hard to guess what she meant.

There wasn't anything _wrong_ with hotel room; it was clean and functional. It was just… plain; far from the luxurious hotels that were the trademark of Neal Caffrey at the peak of his criminal career.

And also cheaper than them. When Neal first started planning his trip around the world, he had done the math and realized that while he wasn't exactly poor yet, his resources had diminished over his time on the anklet. While there might have allegedly been a small stash left, after losing his freedom for eight years, he wasn't keen on risking selling any of it unless there was a true emergency.

_He needed to get a job and figure out what to do with his life._

But he wasn't going to think of that now. He was in Paris, finally free and with a gorgeous fantastic woman who he loved from the depth of his heart. To Neal's wonder, Sara had actually agreed to come here with him – he only hoped that she wasn't regretting it now.

"Are you having second thoughts?" he asked lightly while fearing the answer.

"What? Don't be ridiculous, Caffrey." Sara paused before grinning. "We are here on vacation. We'll push these beds together, then you're going to show me around and we're going to have a damn good time. Now let me change from these pants. I need fresh clothes."

Neal laughed. "Don't let me stop you … Let's have dinner," he suggested. "Then we'll deal with the beds, unpack and afterwards we could just take a walk; climb up to Sacré-Cœur. How do you feel about an evening in Montmartre?"

Looking up from her suitcase, Sara smiled. "Sure, why not." She pulled out a dress and some toiletries. "Okay, I'm going to take a shower."

Neal gave her a mischievous grin. "You sure you don't want some company?"

Sara shook her head. "You're unbelievable. We were on a plane for two hours, I'm tired and I stink, and you still have that on your mind?"

"That wasn't a no," called Neal as soon as she disappeared into the bathroom. Grinning at her answer muted by the closed door, he bent down to his own suitcase and began to unpack.

o - o - o

Paris was just as amazing as Neal remembered.

They'd spent their first evening at Montmartre, first walking through the terraced gardens to admire the basilica before returning to the streets filled with artists and bars, clothes shops and cafés, stands with trinkets for tourists, restaurants and sex shops that were open long into the night. The next day, they'd agreed to visit Louvre and Sara had spent a good part of the morning laughing at Neal who couldn't contain his excitement and joy at once again visiting the famous museum with its vast collections. Another day was dedicated to Versailles, and in between of admiring the beautiful fountains and the blooming flowers, they had a lot of fun finding the more secluded, momentarily abandoned areas in the gardens and enjoying a quick kiss or two before other tourists came to interrupt them. They enjoyed an afternoon in Musée D'Orsay and went on a cruise to see Paris from the level of Seine.

For every major touristic attraction, they also went to at least two lesser known places – to various local bars, the Dali museum near Montmartre, small parks that were hidden in some of the more obscure city corners and to bakeries that made delicious croissants. They wandered through the streets without looking at the map and then came home late to collapse on their pushed-together beds to enjoy some cuddling, waking up in the morning for another round of mind-blowing sex.

The best part, Neal thought, was how quickly they fell into a synch again. Sara seemed to understand why he thought the Mona Lisa was overrated, even though he would love to hold it to study the brushwork of the old master. In a memory of some of their early failed experiments, they went to a porn shop and enjoyed some bad role-playing with Sara pretending to be Neal's Dom, later laughing about it as they fooled around back in their hotel room. And one late afternoon, they returned to the gardens below Sacré-Cœur and Neal sketched a portrait of Sara, sitting on a railing with trees and a lamppost behind her while the shadows were getting longer during the sunset.

There were moments when was hard to believe that they'd only been in Paris for a week; it felt like eternity. Yet Neal was painfully aware that their time together was running short. They were already in the middle of their time together; Sara's flight back to London was scheduled in mere five days. Neal tried to not think of how lonely it would be once she left.

If he had thought that he had managed to find some meager amount of peace in the months after his kidnapping, that illusion was now gone. His nightmares came back full-force, hazy dreams filled with cellars and zip-ties and handcuffs; blindfolds and starvation and a voice that explained all of it in a rational, patient manner like a parent talking to an unruly child. It took all his efforts to hide them from Sara, yet the passing look he sometimes glimpsed on her face told him that she suspected something; not that he expected any less from her. And then there were the moments during the day when he just dazed off, his mind suddenly going blank when visiting a gallery or trying to capture a scene in his sketch-book.

Being with Sara was fabulous, soothing, intoxicating, _fun_ – it was the most Neal felt like himself since – well, in a long time. Knowing that it was coming to end so soon filled him with dread that he tried to shake off, telling himself to live in the moment and enjoy it while it lasted.

_What was he going to do with his life when New York was off the table?_

o - o - o

Shooting up in the bed as he woke up from another bad dream, Neal took deep, long breaths as he tried to calm his racing heart. Looking at Sara's still form next to him, he kissed the air an inch above her hair as not to wake her up and then quietly climbed out of the bed. Changing from his sleep pants into a comfortable pair of jeans, putting on a shirt and grabbing his wallet and keys, he headed out to get them some fresh coffee and pastry from the bakery about fifteen minutes from the hotel.

Looking at the surfaces, it became clear that it had rained at night. Breathing the fresh air, Neal felt his spirit easing and his face broke into a smile. They were going to see the Eiffel Tower today, though it had yet to be seen whether they'd actually take the lift up or not. Thinking about how this was going to be a wonderful day, he bought some croissants and brioches, and then stopped at the coffee shop on his way back.

"Hey," said Neal with a smile when he returned back to the hotel room, finding Sara in the bed, working on something at her laptop.

She smiled back at him. "Morning. Ah, you brought breakfast!"

"Just the best for my lady," replied Neal, taking a sip of his coffee before setting everything on the table. "What are you working on?"

"Nothing, just the usual check-up with work…"

"No work during the vacation, huh?" said Neal teasingly.

Sara tossed a pillow at him. "Oh shut it, Caffrey."

"A pillow fight? Very mature."

"Well, if you'll just let me finish this, then I'll have all the time in the…" Sara's voice suddenly faltered as she stared at the laptop screen.

"Sara?"

No answer.

Frowning, Neal picked up the pillow and walked back to their bed. "What's going on?"

"It's a diamond necklace that belongs to one of our clients," replied Sara as in a daze. "It's been stolen." She paused before looking at him. "Neal, I – I have to go back to London."

"What?" This couldn't be happening.

Sara stood up. "Mrs. Neeson is our second biggest client in Britain. For her, that necklace is a symbol. If she thinks we're not handling this properly… I have to go back to deal with this."

"Sara…"

The look she gave him was both broken and resolute. "Neal, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I understand." The words that were meant to be supportive and encouraging ended up sounding rather pathetic. "It's been a great week," Neal tried again, this time with more enthusiasm and firmness in his voice.

Sara gave him a sad smile. "It's always something, isn't it?"

"This isn't the ending," said Neal. "I'll come see you again. Besides, we had great time."

"We did have a pretty good time, didn't we?"

"We sure did."

They stared at each other for a while before Sara put her laptop at the nightstand. "Come on, Caffrey. Let's have that last breakfast."

Pulling her close, Neal kissed her on the lips. "Last breakfast."

o - o - o

They lay in their bed, Sara's back pressed firmly against Neal's chest as he held her in an embrace. One of the blankets had fallen on the floor, the other one too short to cover them both properly. Staring at the ceiling while he kept gently stroking Sara's leg, Neal sighed.

"I'm going to miss you," said Sara, snuggling closer to him.

"Yeah, me too."

Silence.

"You know, I don't even know how we ended like this. I was about to look up the flight and then pack," said Sara after a while.

"Hmmm." Neal brushed his lips against Sara's collarbone, breathing her scent while childishly hoping that reality would go away if he pretended to ignore it.

"I have to do that now, Neal," said Sara gently.

For a moment, he closed his eyes. "I know."

_It wasn't fair._

Letting her from his embrace brought a whole new kind of hurt, but Neal was smart enough to know that he couldn't try to hold Sara back when she had her mind set on something. After all, they both shared the same love for freedom.

With a sigh, Sara got dressed. Then she picked up her laptop and taking it to the table, started to look for flights to London. While she searched, Neal made up their bed and then went to the mini-fridge, pouring himself a glass of wine despite the time of day.

"Well, this is it," said Sara aloud after a while. "There's a seat on a flight that's leaving in about… four hours."

Neal nodded. "You want to help me pack?"

"No, I can handle myself, thanks."

Of course she could. She wouldn't be the Sara Ellis he knew otherwise.

How was it that the things he loved and respected about her were also those that drove him crazy?

Stepping behind her chair, he gave her a brief hug, then stepped away as she clicked on the form in question and started filling out her information.

"Did I ever spoil your holiday?"

Sara didn't even look up from the screen. "2005."

"Really?" Almost despite himself, Neal chuckled. "So rather than going on vacation, you testified against me on my trial. Should I be flattered?"

"_You_ owe me a trip to Italy for our next vacation."

_Our next vacation. _Neal's throat tightened. For a moment, he allowed himself to stop thinking about the rest of the world and reveled in the secret promise of the casually spoken words.

"Italy sounds good."

"Yeah." Sara sighed. "They couldn't have stolen anything else, could they? It had to be the damned _Star of Quimper."_

Neal froze. "What did you just say?"

Sara frowned. "What…"

_The Star of Quimper. _

"Do you have a picture of it?" asked Neal urgently.

"Not here," answered Sara questioningly. "Neal, what's going on?"

"Do you remember what it looks like?"

Sara appeared to be in thought. "I don't know. … It's not an everyday piece of jewelry. Most of the time, she just keeps it locked in her safe. I think I saw her wear it to an event once," she said at last. "It was a single stone – rather big one –"

"– white, class G or H, eight point five carat, a pear shape, set in platinum," concluded Neal excitedly.

Sara blinked. "And just how do you happen to know that?"

Neal grinned. "Because they wanted me to steal it."

"Excuse me?"

"Ten years ago," added Neal to clarify. "Just a few months before I was arrested. The job fell through," he said when Sara kept burning through him with a glare. "I had the whole heist planned when Mozzie found out that the man who hired me was going to have his thugs beat me up, take the diamond and then turn me in so he didn't have to pay me. Moz had some elaborate revenge in mind, but then I heard some rumors about Kate, so instead we just took the advance money Novak gave us and left."

"Nice friends you've made over the years," said Sara humorlessly.

Neal grimaced. "So it would seem. Anyway, Novak was obsessed with that necklace. Said it used to belong to his family. I wouldn't be surprised if he had hired someone again."

"Now, after ten years? … Neal, I'm not saying you're wrong," said Sara when Neal was about to protest. "But that diamond, it wasn't some small trinket. For all we know, it could even be an inside job. Something like that could tempt a lot of people."

"Good point." Neal paused. "I need to call Mozzie."

o - o - o

"Hey Moz."

"_And the prodigal son finally decided to call! … Neal, are you okay? You know, it would have been nice if –"_

"I'm fine, Moz. Everything's fine." Neal ran a hand through his hair, once again reminded of the ghosts that kept haunting him. "I should have contacted you. I'm sorry."

"_You sure? Because you know if you need me there –"_

"I'm still sorting things out, but thanks." He was well aware that Sara observed the exchange with unveiled curiosity. "Hey, do you remember Mr. Novak from Prague?"

"_That lowlife backstabbing son-of-a-bitch? 'Course I do. Neal, please tell me you're not in business with him? You know, I've had plenty of legit offers. There's this man from Chicago who has their eyes set on a Kandinsky–"_

"I'm in Paris, Moz."

A pause.

"With Sara. Right now."

"_Oh!"_ Even without seeing his face, Mozzie's surprise was audible.

"Hey Mozzie," said Sara with a smile. "Legit offers, really?"

A pause. _"You and Ms. Insurance again, huh?"_

"At least she never tried to kill you," offered Neal helpfully.

"_Yet!"_

'Kill him?' mouthed Sara at Neal.

'Later,' he mouthed back.

"_Fine. I suppose you've done worse before,"_ said Mozzie at last.

"I'm _so_ happy we have your approval," said Sara bitingly.

"Great!" exclaimed Neal cheerfully to prevent the looming battle of wits. "Back to Novak. Mozzie, do you think you could get me some intel on him, what was he doing the last ten years?"

A pause. _"Neal, do I have to worry? Is there something going on?"_

The caring in the voice of his oldest friend warmed Neal's heart. "No, Moz. Nothing bad…" Sara raised her eyebrows. "Well, not "bad" bad. … The necklace that Novak wanted was stolen yesterday. It belongs to a client of Sterling&Bosch. We need to know if he might have had his hands in it."

"_I'll look into it. Give me a few hours, I'll call you back."_

Neal smiled. "Thanks, Moz." Hanging up, he turned back to Sara.

She sighed. "Well, I guess we have a few more hours together…"

Neal put his arm around her. "You want to go out?"

Running a hand through her hair, Sara gave him a tired smile. "Why not?"

o - o - o

When they came back two hours later, they were surprised to find an email from Mozzie.

"_I called in some favors. For the last year and half, Novák has been searching for an acquisition expert. Word is that he had some dealings with Ema Bienkowska – a young girl from Poland, decent cat-burglar, subpar forger, brilliant at cracking safes; the name's probably an alias. She's been seen in London a few days ago._

_PS: You can thank me with ten percent from the recovery fee."_

In the attachment was a photo of a young blond woman, not older than mid-twenties, stepping into a cab in front of the Embankment Station.

Sara stared at the email in disbelief. "Is he for real?"

"About the recovery fee? Probably," said Neal with a shrug.

"No, I mean…" Sara looked him in the eye. "Do you trust this information?"

"Mozzie's research is usually accurate," replied Neal. He paused. "If you ask me, it's a pretty solid lead."

"Plus you want to go to Prague with me," she said with a small smile.

Neal grinned. "What's the harm in having an ulterior motive if I'm right?"

Sara hesitated. "It's speculation, not solid proof."

"Maybe."

"No, it _is_ speculation. Neal, if we're wrong, this will reflect badly on me."

Neal remained silent, giving Sara the time to process the information.

At last, she spoke. "So, do you know any good hotels in Prague?"


	4. Part III

**PART III**

Standing on the Vaclav Havel Airport and getting drenched by rain (her umbrella was buried somewhere at the bottom of her suitcase), Sara watched Neal struggle to fit their luggage into boot of the taxi while the cab driver observed them with a frown mixed with disinterest.

"Do you need some help there?" she asked, barely keeping the irritation out of her voice.

"No, I got it," called Neal. At last, he slammed down the backdoor of the car and the two of them finally got into the cab. "Here we go."

"Where to?" asked the driver from behind the wheel.

"We need a hotel for the next two or three days, preferably in the center," spoke Sara. "We don't have reservations. Can you recommend us a place?"

The cabbie grunted in agreement. "I will take you to a hotel."

"Great!" exclaimed Neal happily. "So, what can you tell us about Prague?"

For a moment, Sara watched Neal's attempts to strike a conversation with the cabbie. However, the man was short to the point of being rude, and she soon lost interest in the exchange. Staring out of the window at the city around her that was already falling into darkness, she wondered whether she had rushed her judgment – whether her rational mind had been overshadowed by her personal emotions and feelings. If this journey turned out to be a mistake, it was be a question that her superiors and colleagues would undoubtedly ask.

Honestly, she didn't think that being with Neal compromised her judgment – much. If she was taking a risk, it was just as much due to the fact that she wanted a break from being stuck behind a desk. Besides, Sara had always been known for taking risks and pursuing leads that seemed questionable at best if her instincts told her there was something to be found. For every failure, there were at least three or four successfully recovered items.

Suddenly she felt someone touching her hand. Glancing at Neal, Sara smiled when he squeezed her fingers.

"We're going to get it back."

"Of course we are, Caffrey. Was there ever any doubt?"

Neal chuckled. Feeling better, Sara allowed herself a smile.

Then they got closer to the centre and both of them started admiring the old city, beautiful despite the ugly weather. By the time they crossed the Vltava River, any thoughts of the necklace were gone from Sara's mind.

For now, it was time to admire the lights of Prague.

o - o - o

Three hours later, they were in an expensive hotel room, lying on a double bed, both of them nursing a glass of wine. Finishing hers, Sara leisurely put the empty glass on a nightstand before turning to face Neal. They had left Paris at roughly five p.m., so when they finally got from the Prague airport to their hotel, it was already dark. A quick dinner was followed by some additional research to expand on Mozzie's information and whatever Neal and Sara learned while waiting for their flight in Paris. Finally, Neal had said that enough was enough, and Sara had reluctantly shut off her laptop and turned her attention to her lover.

It turned out that they shared a kink for shower sex.

Now, with the tips of her hair still slightly wet and being naked except for a dark purple silk bathrobe, Sara was feeling mischievous and decadent. If Caffrey had decided that they had better things to do than search for the diamond necklace, then he had an obligation to entertain her. She wasn't going to let him shortchange her.

"So, what was it about me trying to kill Mozzie?" she asked teasingly.

Neal frowned. "Excuse me?"

Sara rolled onto her side. "Today, back in Paris when you spoke with Mozzie, you said 'at least I didn't try to kill him yet'…. Is that a new paranoia or something I should know about?"

She fully expected Neal to laugh and tell her some crazy story. What she wasn't ready for was the flash of deep pain that passed over his face before he quickly slammed on one of his impenetrable masks.

"Neal?"

For a moment, Neal appeared to be in thought. When he finally turned to her, his insincere, empty smile told Sara that whatever was coming would probably be both important and ugly.

"After you left for London, things were… complicated."

"You mean Peter's arrest?" asked Sara quietly. She paused. "It didn't get resolved as quickly as you said, did it?"

_She should have known._

"No, not really." Neal sighed. "It wasn't a good time. Siegel – did I tell you I had a new handler?"

"That seemed to have slipped your mind," said Sara. "How did that work out?"

"The arrangement didn't last long." Neal hesitated. "When I met Rebecca – Rachel – she seemed to be the one good thing during that time while everything else went to hell. She was a museum curator; we met on a case – I unintentionally got her sacked for something she didn't do."

"And she wanted to date you? I would have kicked your ass."

Neal gave her a weak smile. "That's what I love about you." He gulped down the rest of his wine. "Rebecca was smart, witty, strong, innocent but corruptible – everything seemed so simple with her. I fell for her."

They hadn't made any promises to each other, Sara silently reminded herself. She had always known that Neal used to move on quickly – probably the result of growing up in WitSec and all the times they had suddenly moved from place to place. While she didn't exactly understand how Neal could flip the switch so quickly when it came to his emotions, it was something she had learned to accept about him– or at least, she tried.

"So what went wrong?" she asked neutrally.

Neal gave hare a mirthless chuckle. "Rachel turned out to be ex-MI5 and a professional killer. She wanted my skills, so she dissected my whole life to create a perfect identity that I'd find appealing. Once I've fallen for her, she played me like a violin… and I fell for all of it. When we exposed her, she poisoned Mozzie to blackmail me into getting something she wanted."

"Wow."

Shocked by all the revelations, Sara didn't know what to say. Finally, some words manage to find their way through. "Are you ever going to tell me the whole story?"

"Do you want me to?" asked Neal.

Sara hesitated. "If you think I should know."

Neal looked away. "Not today," he said at last.

Twisting her body on the bed, Sara wriggled closer to him and gently squeezed Neal's forearm. She felt the shiver that ran through Neal's body and brought his hand in between them. "For what's it worth, I'm sorry this happened to you."

Neal smiled. "Thanks."

Sara knew how much it cost him to expose himself like this; knew how much it meant that he shared this with her. Yet she felt that there was still an abyss between them; a chasm filled with secrets and pain. Thinking back to their reunion in London, she realized that she had taken the easier, more comfortable road and allowed herself to fall for Neal's cons, taking his smiles at face value when they were obviously just smoke and mirrors.

'_You know you can trust me. Frankly, the fact that you don't kind of pisses me off.'_ How would he react if she said that?

For a moment, Sara enjoyed the fantasy, but in reality she knew that Neal would only shut down. She wished she was better at relationship diplomacy.

"I don't want us to get tripped again by secrets," she said at last. Neal winced. "Just – tell me when you're ready?"

Neal swallowed. "Can I… Would you mind if…"

"What?"

A pause. "I want to hold you. Just… just that." Awkwardly, he tried to move his arms around her into a semi-hug. "Is this okay?"

Instead of answering, Sara just snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around Neal's waist. Still hesitant, Neal nevertheless took it as a permission to proceed. Pressing his body against hers, he closed any remaining distance between them and tightened his embrace. Everything, even their legs was completely intertwined in a huge mess of body parts. Sara's head was lying against Neal's shoulder in an awkward angle, so she pulled away a bit and adjusted herself to a more comfortable position. And then they just lay there, the only disturbance being the sound of their breathing and the inaudible beating of their hearts.

Despite their usual magnetism and the close contact, this time, there wasn't anything sexual between them. A part of Sara felt trapped – annoyed, even – by being stuck in this position. Yet, there was also something peaceful; something that Neal was apparently looking for. She matched her breathing with his, otherwise remaining still while something like unspoken understanding passed between them.

An eternity passed.

"I'm tired of the game. I just want something real."

Hearing Neal's quiet whisper, Sara's throat tightened. Clumsily, she brushed her lips the skin of his neck.

In response, he stroked her back. "I love you."

Suddenly blinking back tears, she kissed him again. "Me too."

Even when they finally moved apart, they still kept holding hands. They didn't exchange any more words. At last, both of them drifted off to sleep.

The next day was going to be long.

o - o - o

"So, how do you plan to get the necklace? Are we going after the thief or after Novak himself?" asked Neal the next morning at breakfast.

Sara smiled. "Well, what do you think?"

"Going after the girl should be far less messy," answered Neal immediately. "Then again, who knows what Novak would do if she didn't get it to him."

Sara raised her eyebrows. "And why exactly is that our concern?"

"Honor among thieves? If Mozzie's right, she's still pretty green in the business. I know firsthand what kind of man Novak is. Besides, we don't know where to find her."

"And we should be more than capable of tracking her down," said Sara confidently. "Maybe we could coordinate with the authorities."

"No. We're not going to the cops."

Sara grinned. "Really? Why not?"

"It's a bad idea," said Neal resolutely.

"Why?"

"I'm an ex-con in a foreign country… if we go to them with this, I'll be their first suspect. Besides, it's not like we have any evidence. They wouldn't listen to us."

"They would listen to me," said Sara confidently.

Neal shook his head. "They'd be looking over our shoulder the whole time. Trust me, we can handle this."

"Neal –"

"_No._ Sara…"

Staring at him in surprise, Sara wondered what had caused this.

Finally, Neal ran a hand over his face. "Forget it. You're right. If you think going to the police is the best way, then I'm with you."

There was a pause. "We can handle it alone," said Sara at last.

Neal smiled at her with obvious relief in face.

_What the hell was going on?_

By a silent agreement, they'd decided not to talk about the previous night. Yet after the current exchange, Sara couldn't help but wonder what secrets he still had in store for her – and whether they were going to break them just like in their past.

They spent the remainder of their breakfast trying to find the best way to recover the _Star of Quimper_, discussing several different approaches and possibilities and making some additional calls. When they stepped out of the hotel, Sara was struck by how beautiful day it was. Any signs of the rain were long gone. With her high heels, her baton and Caffrey by her side, she was ready to conquer the world – or at least to catch a thief and get the necklace back.

Neal had only been to Prague once that time when Novak had hired him, while for Sara the city was completely new. The lack of any contact network was going to make their job more difficult, though not impossible. After talking to a number of people in London and New York, Sara finally got a name and address of a promising source. If that failed, Mozzie had reluctantly given them contact for an old fence, after Neal assured him that they weren't going to cause his friend any trouble.

When their cab arrived, Sara gave Neal a smile. "Ready to do this?"

"Absolutely."

"Can you take us to the Welletrshni Street?" said Sara to the cabbie.

The driver frowned. "Do you mean Veletržní in Holešovice?"

"That's right," confirmed Neal happily.

A shrug and a smile. "No problem."

He entered the address into a GPS and then they took off.

o - o - o

"You know, this wasn't what I had in mind when I said I was hoping we'd have time for some sightseeing," said Neal about two hours later.

Sara grinned. "Look at the bright side – at least we're not stuck in a traffic jam."

"True," acknowledged Neal. He paused. "Wait – do you see it? That must be the Dancing House."

Tilting her head to get a better view, Sara looked in the direction where Neal was pointing. "Huh. Interesting."

Then she glanced at the other side of the tram. "Hey, look. It's the river again." Noticing that the tram was almost empty, she and Neal exchanged a look before silently agreeing to move to the other side for a better view. "Wow."

For a moment, they just watched in silence as the tram slowly drove forward. A minute later, the tram took a sharp turn and entered a bridge, giving them the perfect view on Prague Castle and the tip of the Petřín Lookout Tower. They enjoyed the sight of the river and the hill opposite them until the bridge suddenly ended and they entered a new street, the houses blocking their view once again.

"How many more stops?" asked Sara when the tram stopped once again.

"Just two."

"_Finally."_ Although their route had taken them around some interesting places, after twenty minutes, Sara was getting anxious to get off the tram and carry on with their quest.

Neal chuckled. "You know, we _could_ have taken another cab. It's not like he'd know that you've threatened the previous driver –"

"Neal, the man was trying to rob us. I'm not going to be cheated just because I'm a tourist in a foreign city."

"Of course not." Seeing the cheeky grin on his face, Sara was torn between an urge to hit him and to kiss him.

Doing neither, she stood up when the tram stop. If their source was right, they still had a chance to find Ema Bienkowska before she brought the necklace to Novak and close this case once and for all.

o - o - o

It took them about ten minutes to find the apartment. They had to ring the bell three times before a young blond woman came to open the door.

"A vy jste kdo?" asked Ema.

"Dzien dobry," said Neal with a smile. "You must be Ema Bienkowska."

"I'm Sara Ellis from Sterling&Bosch," Sara introduced herself. "We're here about the _Star of Quimper._"

"Anglicy? Co to za…"

"May we come in?" asked Neal with a brilliant grin.

"Możemy – no, you can't. Who the hell do you think you are? Get out of my apartment!" However, before she managed to slam the door in their faces, Sara pulled out her baton and stuck it into the gap.

"We can talk, or I can call the police," said Sara threateningly.

"A dzwon sobie, kimkolwiek jestes, zdziro," murmured Ema, unsuccessfully trying to close the door.

"My name is Neal Caffrey," said Neal suddenly. "You were hired to steal the necklace for someone. Only now you found out that he won't play straight and you don't know what to do."

"What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Funny. The witnesses who saw you around my client's house tell a different story," said Sara dryly.

"You're delusional. Now get out before I call for the neighbor."

"You stole the necklace for Aleš Novák. I know it because he hired me to steal the same necklace ten years ago," proclaimed Neal loudly. Ema stilled. "He was going to keep the score and turn me in. Instead, one of my friends made sure that every thief would know what bastard Novak really is. Then he hacked into Novák's computer system and gave the police an anonymous tip about his business."

"You didn't tell me about that," said Sara surprisedly. Of course she should have known that Mozzie wouldn't leave any attack on Neal go unpunished.

Ema stared at him with wide eyes. "You _are_ Neal Caffrey," she said at last. She glanced at Sara. "Who is she?"

Sara sighed. "I'm an insurance investigator. The necklace belongs to one of my clients."

"We're not cops," reassured her Neal. "Now, can we come in?"

o - o - o

Once they gained Ema's trust, things became surprisingly easy.

"Novák is a scumbag who made his wealth in the immediate years after the Velvet Revolution," explained Ema. "Playing businessmen, he cheated a lot of honest people. After your friend set the police on him, he's mostly stayed under the radar – until the amnesty two years ago that closed all investigation on this sort of financial crimes. He's just a thug, but that doesn't usually stop him from getting what he wants."

Neal frowned. "Why did you let him hire you?"

Ema uttered a mirthless chuckle. "I'd heard of him… I thought I could handle it. I realized I was wrong when I saw his gorillas standing there during our negotiation. Two of them even followed me to England. Look, if I don't give him the necklace, I'm screwed –"

"Whereas if you give it to him, he might just break a few of your ribs," said Sara dryly. "I can see why you chose to work or this guy."

"Well thank you for your wisdom, Mrs. Perfect," retorted Ema sharply. "I wouldn't have figured that out."

"_You_ stole something from my client. Now you're going to give us that diamond back and we'll help you get out of this mess. Do we have a deal?"

Ema frowned. "What do you have in mind?"

o - o - o

In the end, it was mostly a matter of perfect timing.

Using Ema's supplies, Neal forged a passable FBI badge for Sara, only to be used if things went wrong. Then they fitted her with a transmitter and receiver and she went visit Aleš Novak, pretending to be a middleman and an associate of Ema Bienkowska. The second she showed the necklace to Novak, one of their newfound contacts called Novak with an urgent message – the police had tried to arrest Ema Bienkowska and her place was crawling with cops. When Novak "realized" that Sara was an undercover agent, he denied all the knowledge of the necklace and called his lawyers.

It was a classic blow-off and it went off without a hitch.

And now they were back in the hotel, and suddenly Sara's hands were shaking and she had to sit down and take a few deep breaths.

She was a big girl; she had said that to Neal when he expressed his reservations about the plan. She had enjoyed the rush of playing a thief-slash-undercover agent. It had been challenging, exciting, exhilarating –

– and also dangerous and unnecessary, realized Sara grimly. She hadn't needed to put herself at risk; she hadn't owed Ema Bienkowska anything – but even if she had, there had been another ways. There was a line between getting the job done and being reckless.

She loved Neal, wanted him to be a part of her life. She had to make sure that they wouldn't crash and burn again.

"What are you thinking?" asked Neal softy, pulling her in a hug.

Sara sighed. "I'm not going to be your partner in crime, Neal."

"_Good._ I wouldn't want you to."

The resolve in his voice surprised her. Locking their eyes, a sudden understanding passed between them.

Then Neal ruined it with one of his cheeky grins. "Besides, I've gone straight. Reformed, remember?"

There was probably more truth in that statement than the tone would suggest.

Sara smirked. "Well that's great, since I think I've had enough of conning thugs. Let's not do this again?"

"Fine with me." Neal planted a kiss into her hair. "Now, how about some strawberries and champagne?"

_Strawberries?_ "Isn't that a bit cheesy? And what exactly are we celebrating?"

"Well, we got the necklace back…"

Opening the small jewelry box, Sara took out the necklace and for the first time, allowed herself to admire the glitter of the diamond. Then she smiled and put it back. "Yeah, we did."

Placing his arm around her waist, Neal kissed her again. "May I?" When Sara nodded, he carefully took the box from her hand. "It's beautiful."

"Don't get any ideas, Caffrey."

Neal laughed. "I'll order the champagne now."

o - o - o

Towering over the rest of Prague, the Petřín Hill with its vast parks and gardens was one of the greenest areas of the city. In just a few days on May 1st, it would be full of couples celebrating the Lover's Day – even now, it was filled with people who took advantage of the sunny weather. After taking the funicular to the top of the hill, Neal and Sara spent a minute looking at the map of the hill and then began walking through the gardens.

Walking under the blossoming trees, they'd decided to skip the Štefánik's Observatory, though they did stop to get a glance at the sun-dials. Sadly, it was too early yet for roses to be blooming, but the flower-beds were violet with lavender and a number of trees and bushes were giving the gardens a specific charm. Walking around, they found several places with wonderful view on the city. Eventually they sat on a bench under the trees, taking advantage of the cooling shadows.

"So when do you need to be at the airport tomorrow morning?" asked Neal after they broke away from a kiss.

Sara shrugged. "Half past five, I guess. You?"

"The flight to Greece leaves just before nine," answered Neal. He paused. "We could go to the airport together."

"Oh, so I can deprive you of your beauty sleep at six a.m. after you spent most of the night awake to hide your nightmares?" asked Sara sarcastically. "You're not denying it," she said after a pause.

Mirthlessly, Neal chuckled. "Would it help me any if I tried?"

"Not really, no."

There was a moment of heavy silence.

"The last two years have been a mess," said Neal at last. "No, actually it started long before that."

"What exactly happened?" asked Sara lightly.

Taking her hand, Neal stared into the distance, no longer aware of their surroundings. Sara patiently waited until he found his words.

"The man behind my kidnapping was a psychopath who believed that artists generally created their best works while in distress."

Stiffening for a moment, Sara forced herself to relax and started drawing small circles on the top of Neal's hand with her thumb.

"Mostly, he played mind games with me. A few times he got violent, but most of the time he was worried about damaging me too much. See, he needed me to be able to paint, draw, sculpt. He talked of himself as my friend, here to help me reach my real potential. ... When I finally escaped, it took me months before I could even look at art without feeling sick," concluded Neal with a sigh.

Sra blinked. "But we've been to museums, galleries… "

"And it's been great," said Neal firmly. He looked her in the eyes. "I'm not going to let this ruin my life. I'm glad you were there with me."

"Okay."

They snuggled closer, Neal's arm once again around Sara's waist. When Neal pressed a kiss against her collarbone, Sara's lips curled in a feeble smile. Seeing another couple snogging hungrily at a bench just ten or fifteen meters away only underlined the irony of it all. Here they were on a vacation, in a wonderful, romantic place – and they were talking about torture and psychopaths.

Time to change the subject. "So I guess you're coming back to New York after you're done with travelling?"

"Actually I'm not." Neal paused before smiling. "I talked to Stuart Gless. They have a small branch in Birmingham, so… I had an interview with them that day when you had all those meetings. They called me yesterday evening. I start in three weeks."

"Wow. Well, that's…. That's great, Caffrey." _And completely unexpected,_ thought Sara still in a daze. "What about New York?"

Neal cleared his throat. "I don't think I'll be going to New York in a while – long story," he said before she could ask.

"Did something happen between you and Peter?"

"Yes and no."

Sara lifted her eyebrows.

"Yes, we've had some issues, but he's not the reason why I left." Neal sighed. "About two months ago, someone came up with another scheme to prolong my sentence."

"What?! How? Neal –"

"They said I faked my own kidnapping, that it was an escape attempt. It was ridiculous – I hired a lawyer and we squashed the charges before it made it to a trial, but they might have wanted to try again. So the moment Peter took the anklet off and I was officially free, June's driver took me to another city and I caught the first plane to Canada. After that, I came to London and you know the rest."

There was a moment of silence.

"_How dared they _– who the hell was it?"

She wanted to rip them apart. She wanted to – she could call Mozzie and Peter.

"Sara." Neal's quiet tone gave her a pause. "Let it go."

She shook her head. "Neal, this isn't right!"

"I'm free now," he said strongly. "I'm not anyone's puppet or prisoner anymore. I can finally live my own life. Let it go."

"And is it the life you want?"

Neal frowned. "Let's not talk about this, okay?"

"Oh brilliant, because _that's_ going to help a lot."

"Sara…"

"You're running away again."

"Will you drop it, please?" exclaimed Neal in annoyance and stood up.

The pair that had been kissing earlier was now staring at them. Sara looked away.

'_And then they walked into the sunset and lived happily ever after.' _

"I'm sorry," she said at last.

Neal didn't answer.

Standing up, she put her hand on Neal's shoulder. "Neal, I – look. Can we not spend the rest of the afternoon arguing?"

Neal turned to face her. "I just – I can't deal with this right now," he said quietly. "Can you understand that?"

Sara bit her lip. "Okay."

"You sure? Are we okay?"

Sara chuckled. "I always knew that this wasn't going to be just sunshine and rainbows, Caffrey. Yes, we're good."

"Great."

Silence.

Finally, Neal cleared his throat. "So, remember how we missed the Eiffel Tower in Paris?"

"Yes…?"

Neal smiled. "Well, the Petrin Lookout Tower is modeled after it – and it's closing in about an hour. How about we go and take a look?"

o - o - o

The view from the tower had been completely breath-taking. As the evening approached, they watched as all the lights of Prague lit up. Eventually though, they had to leave. They climbed down the spiral-staircase, gave one last glance to the tower which was now shining in the night, and then they continued to the terraced gardens that would take them to the Prague Castle and more of the old Prague's centre.

After enjoying another view from the castle, they spend a few minutes kissing. In the end, the time on her smart-phone told Sara that it was time to go back.

"Neal…"

"I know. You need to catch your flight next morning."

"And yours." Sara paused. "After you get settled in Birmingham –"

"I'll call you," promised Neal immediately.

Sara smiled. "Well I was going to say you could invite me for a visit, but calling works too."

Neal grinned. "You're brilliant, you know that?"

Instead of an answer, they kissed again.

"You know who else you should call when you come back? Peter."

"I'm not sure he'd want to hear from me…" said Neal with a grimace.

Sara frowned. "That's nonsense and you know it. At least write to him." If her statement might reopen one of their earlier arguments, so be it – she didn't know what the exact state of affairs was between the two men, but she knew Neal well enough to realize that he wouldn't find his peace until he made things right with the FBI agent.

After a moment, Neal nodded. "Okay. I'll write to him."

"Good."

"Good."

"You know," Sara breathed into Neal's ear, "I really meant it when I said I had a great time. Thanks, Caffrey."

"We're not saying goodbye yet, remember? I'm going to the airport with you tomorrow."

Sara blinked. "Seriously? Neal, you don't have to – "

"Try and talk me out of it."

Sara laughed. "Fine, but I'm paying for the cab."

"Works for me."

Staring down at the lights of the city under them, Sara leisurely stroked Neal's chest. "So, do you think that if we hurry up, we might still enjoy some time together?"

"Well, I think there's only one way to find out."

Sharing a grin, they started to walk down to the centre to find a tram that would take them back to the hotel.


	5. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

**Eleven months later**

He might have been back to New York for only a few hours, but Neal was already feeling affected by the familiar surrounding. Looking around his old apartment, he thought about how much had changed – and all that had stayed the same.

June had been more than willing to let him stay here; had sounded offended by the very idea that he would stay somewhere else after coming back. Eventually he might go apartment hunting for his own place, but right now he appreciated his old landlady's hospitality. If he had a friend who had never shoved him away and always accepted him for who he was, it was definitely June.

Mozzie was going to stop by the day after tomorrow; right now, he was courting _(stalking)_ a quantum-physics teacher from New Jersey. Two days later, he was going to catch up with Jones and Diana. However, the one man he both yearned and dreaded seeing again was about to come in just an hour and Neal hadn't even finished unpacking yet.

Arranging the suits back in his wardrobe, Neal was glad for the distraction. His meeting with Peter could go either way – with all the history between them, he knew they might end up hugging and crying, or they might result to a yelling match and cutting accusations. Honestly, it was even possible that they would do both. With a bitter smile, Neal realized that this time, Peter didn't have the power over him anymore – he could chuck him out and slam the door and Peter would have to leave, because Neal wasn't his CI anymore – he was a free man. Yet the mere idea of doing that felt like a stab in the heart.

Mozzie might have been unyieldingly loyal to him, Sara was starting to understand him in a way that frankly frightened him a bit and June had never judged him, but Peter had been the first person who had believed in him and wanted him to become a better man.

Things had seemed okay in their emails and the few rare phone-calls that they had exchanged. Neal tried to take comfort in that even as he nervously checked the time on his smart-phone.

And then there was a knock on the door and Neal's heart flipped. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal one Peter Burke. "Hey Neal."

"Hi Peter."

Peter closed the door and stepped inside. "It's good to see you again."

"You too."

For a moment, they just stared at each other, not sure what to do.

"Neal –"

"Look –"

They paused, smiling nervously at each other.

Neal was the first one to find words. "I'm sorry I ran away when my sentence was over. I was afraid, but – it was an impulsive decision. And I should have called you once I was in Canada, or even London."

"Apology accepted." Peter ran a hand through his hair. "Neal, I understand why you thought you needed to leave. What those agents tried to do to you – it was both wrong and completely baseless. They didn't have anything to support their claims, and I would have fought them all the way if they came after you again."

"Peter, I trusted _you_," said Neal. "But I didn't trust the system, and I thought I couldn't afford to take the risk."

"Neal –"

"How's Elizabeth?" interrupted him Neal.

Peter smiled. "She's happy… still loves the job at the gallery. What about you and Sara?"

"She's coming here next week for an interview with Mr. Bosch," said Neal. "There's an opening at the New York office. If she decides to take it, we'll be moving back here."

Peter frowned. "And if she decides to stay in London…?"

"Then I'll be there with her."

Peter paused. "So you two…?"

"I haven't asked the question yet, but we're pretty serious, yeah."

"Huh."

And then there was the silence again. This time, it was Peter who broke it first. "Look Neal – I think we need to talk."

Neal nodded. "Yeah, we do. About a lot of things."

Hagen. His kidnapping. The months after. The thousand little and big things that they'd stumbled over since they started working together five years ago.

He took a deep breath. "Why don't you take a seat? I have imported beer in the fridge."

Peter chuckled. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Wordlessly, Neal handed Peter the beer and a glass, then went to get some wine for himself.

He had a feeling that they were going to be there for a long time.

o - o - o

"_So how did it go?"_ asked Sara over the phone the next day.

Neal smiled. "There was a bit of yelling… not too much though. A couple tears, lots of hugs…."

"_So you're good?"_

"Not completely, but we will be." And he was certain that it was the truth.

"_I'm glad to hear that,"_ replied Sara sincerely.

There was a moment of silence.

"So…" started Neal conversationally. "Tell me what you're wearing."

Sara laughed. _"This again, seriously?"_

"You're an ocean away and you won't be here for another six days."

"_Point taken,"_ conceded Sara. _"Okay, let me just make myself comfortable…"_

o - o - o

Half an hour later, Neal was staring at the ceiling, feeling a mixture of happiness and peace.

He and Peter had reconciled. He had his life back. And he loved Sara Ellis from the bottom of his heart.

He needed to start looking for an engagement ring.

**THE END**

* * *

_A/N: I hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks everyone who has reviewed this and please tell me what you think of the conclusion :)  
_


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